Supernatural MatchMaking
by SailorSilvanesti
Summary: Tag to CM episode: Elephant's Memory. Sam has another vision of Demons flocking to destroy a tall, skinny man that they trace down to Quantico, Virginia. Dr Spencer Reid is forced to contend with the Supernatural on his team's newest case. AU, obviously.
1. Chapter 1: Morgan Makes a Mistake

_**Disclaimer: I do not Own Criminal Minds, or Supernatural...I have however, gone crazy and collided the two together for the Hell of it.**_

_**Tag to: Elephant's Memory [Criminal Minds]**_

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><p><strong>Supernatural Match-Making<strong>

**~)0(~**

**Chapter 1: Morgan Makes a Mistake…**

He bustled through the door late, almost frenzied for his standards; brushing the ever-elusive strands of hair from his face, he hastily said, "Sorry I'm late!" whilst sliding towards an empty seat and awaited the barrage that always awaited him, the youngest, every time…and it came.

"Who was she?" teased Prentiss, looking up at him from under a veil of dark black hair; Morgan looked back at him with a look of mock-concern on his face and said, "I _hope _it was a she…" his deep voice intoned with a grin, which fell as Reid felt himself flinch.

"Hey, you okay, Pretty Boy?" the older Agent asked in concern, brown eyes dancing over his slender form and noting just how pallid his skin had become since entering the room…Reid felt his mouth up turn into a vague smile, "No, I mean, yeah…I'm fine. What…What're we dealing with?"

A concerned glance passed like a lit relay torch over his head as he sat down, equally appreciating the sturdy support of the wooden item of furniture and loathing the stiff rigidity of it, especially where it pressed relentlessly into his back… He squirmed slightly, both from discomfort and the intense scrutiny of their gazes, "I, uh, I was at a movie…" forced it's way from his lips; a bad lie, yes, but it was the only thing that came to his so-called 'brilliant' mind…

Rossi seemed unconvinced, "Oh really? Why don't you tell us what was it about…?" he asked in genuine interest and mild suspicion, eyebrow raised as he leant forwards on the table, fingers interlaced…Reid couldn't seem to find a good excuse, brain whirring unhelpfully and finally resorting to, "Uh…I had to leave early, so I don't really know…"

It was lame, even to his own ears; but as experienced Profilers, they knew when not to push an issue…and Hotch merely left it at that, nodding to Jennifer and acknowledging her jurisdiction and knowledge over the case.

JJ launched into a carefully prepared speech about the unusual deaths occurring in the small town of West Bune, Texas…the original killings were recent. Involving a carefully thought out, execution-style death… -via detonation of an explosive device.

The dead included a local man, Rod Norris, and it was believed his teenage daughter, Jordan, was also a victim, as a corpse had been found the nearby cradling branches of an old tree. Two cops had also been mercilessly murdered by a relentless burst of sub-machine gun fire as they arrived on the scene; this unsub was definitely in the area, and had been watching…

"It's a common tactic employed by terrorists, actually. Create an initial explosion, then they generally set off a secondary explosion in order to create as many civilian casualties as possible… In this case, it seems the unsub was intent on taking out both first and secondary targets. The question is why?" interjected Reid, intent on speaking out his thought patterns.

Rossi nodded, "Sounds that way, doesn't it? Call the local police department, tell them we're on our way, JJ…the rest of you, wheels up in…oh, say…thirty minutes?" He looked to Hotch for confirmation, "Thirty Minutes from now. Oh, and somebody get Garcia…she's coming too."

~)0(~

Stalking through the shadows, his grim-faced expression belied the confusion racing about the confines of his skull, thoughts echoing, bouncing…and it was giving him one hell of a headache… Sam began to speak again, "Dean, come _on_…I'm serious about this! He was in my vision, and he's going to be in danger…we have to save him!" He sighed and whirled about on his brother, "And this had nothing to with the fact you were going all '_Sex in the City_' and checking out his ass…? Have I _mentioned_ how weird that was…?"

Sam spat out his beer in a slow spray that managed to encompass the entirety of his shirt and the sleeve of Dean's favourite leather jacket, "Hey! Watch it, Sammy! Jeez, do you know how long it's gonna take to get that out?" he dramatically stated, swiping at the almost non-existent droplets of alcohol with a serviette. Wide blue eyes turned to meet his own; Sam's mouth hung open in a blatant attempt to process not only the statement of what his brother was implying, but also reply in a manner that could not possibly be misconstrued by a certain Neanderthal…there was a pointed glance at Dean.

"What? How could you- I mean- Look, this guy is in_ serious_ _danger_ here and we don't have time for all your normal crap, Dean!" Sam stated emphatically, hands wildly gesturing with all the conflicting emotions he was trying to get out and settling for a shove. He took the push and stepped back, not really feeling up to a confrontation over something like this, but still excited enough to rile up his baby brother for a few laughs. At least, whilst the confrontation was still fresh in his mind…

######

_The dim lights of the Hotel flickered on and off momentarily, his eyes danced about the room, looking for…there we go… "SAM!" he yelled, his brother swinging about and lighting the flame-thrower; the Wendigo shrieked and threw itself towards them, claws shearing the weapon in half even through the flames. After days of pursuit, the Winchester had finally managed to track down the creature to an old, mostly-abandoned hotel on the outer fringes of a forest in Idaho…Bobby'd been and 'jiggered the god-damn switches' as the grizzled old Hunter had put it…so they had electricity; well, what there was of it._

_Six people had reportedly gone missing in the last few weeks, drawing their focus to the small forest town like a giant neon-sign screaming "Monster Here, come get me!" Bobby had called them in after the second person's wood cabin appeared to have been reduced to sawdust and firewood… They'd been on the other side of America at the time, so by the time they'd made it to the town, four more people were missing presumed dead. Local Police were under the impression it was either a large Grizzly escaped from a touring Circus, or a gang of Satanists living in the woodland Hippy Commune…_

_Dean had cracked a 'Damn Hippies' joke that had immediately warmed the Local Sherriff and Deputy to them, which had helped in getting the two men to relax and become more candid with their remarks, spruiking off local hearsay and rumour about the 'abductions'. Their investigations had led to 'The Come-On-Inn!" a seedy little run-down hotel at the edge of the forest and miles from town. Abandoned after a guest had accidentally set fire to their room, flames engulfed the entire hotel and ended up destroying the internal structure and so, in lieu of a tight-fisted manager who outright refused to spend the millions required to have it repaired…so it had fallen to wrack and ruin. Mould and mildew coated the walls, wallpaper was dank with ever-present moisture and there was little to no light in the place. Perfect Wendigo territory. It was dark, dank and cool…just the place for it to drag it's victims, kicking and screaming, for storage…_

_Cornered in a back bedroom full of bunk-beds, generally reserved for the staff and caretakers who required a bed for the night, the Wendigo had hidden in shadows; hissing like an angry snake and tensing…_

_Then it had struck out as the fire turned on it; shards of metal flew all over the place as the flame-thrower broke apart, something scored at Sam's face as he stumbled back…the instinctive need to protect his baby brother flared from deep within his chest and then Dean had leapt into the path of the angered creature. He jammed the demon-hunting knife deep within its flesh…it screeched ear-splittingly, for a second time and shrunk away as Dean spun around…_

"_Sam, you okay?" he yelled, noting the way the other pressed a hand to the side of his face; Sam nodded, pulling away to show a deep cut within his cheek, blood dripped down the side of his face and covered the hand previously concealing the wound. Frowning deeply, Dean wrenched his own miniature flame thrower from where the handle had tucked into the light leather of his belt; it clicked into a definite 'On' position as he held out a lighter and squinted in anticipation of the sudden flare of brightness._

_Sure enough, though it had nearly blinded him at the time, flames burst out and curled around the darkened room, catching hold of old, frayed curtains, chairs, tables, the mattresses all rotten and threadbare…Fire engulfed the room, and sitting, shrieking, in a corner was the Wendigo, too scared to move. Dean watched with something approaching satisfaction as it burned, before Sam grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him bodily our the door…_

_He should have seen it, should have known something was wrong…racing outside and slamming into the hood of the Impala in their rush, Dean felt the body beside him lose grip and sag; Sam hit the ground on his knees, head in his hands and eyes shut tight against the pain…gasping at the intensity of the vision. Watching on with concern, "Oh Sammy, not here…" he slammed onto his jean-clad knees and held his brother as he rocked, eyes widening in fear as Sam's head jerked upright to stare off wildly into nothing, with fevered eyes._

"_What? What is it? Speak to me, Sam!" he had yelled. The blue eyes closed, and the ragged breathing subsided as quickly as it had started, before Sam had turned to him. "A-a man, I saw him…there was a demon, it was- I don't know the vision wasn't very specific, but I know I saw demons closing in on him, one taking human form and tearing his heart out… I think I've seen him before on television, he's with the…FBI I think, but he doesn't look like the 'kick down the door' type…"_

_Dean stiffened at his side as the last words registered, "Whoa, Whoa, whoa…back up! This guy is in the FBI? Are you freaking insane? Look, it's sad and all that, but I think we're going to have to let this guy go…if you haven't forgotten, they're kind of looking for us right now!" He heard a sharp intake of breath, Sam had closed his eyes again; and breathed out slowly before replying, "That…wasn't all, I saw…his badge and- some others I assume were on his team, but there are demons following him, that's for certain. Dean, we have to help him, we HAVE to…this guy doesn't look like he could fight his way out of a plastic bag…let alone fend off a demon!"_

"_Yeah, yeah…I got it, gotta be the hero again…Whatever, we'll talk about this later, right now we need to get you to bed," he groaned, hefting his brother upright and fumbling for the door handle; it popped open easily and he slid Sam into the Passenger seat with little effort. For his part, Sam was doing a magnificent impression of a pile of jelly and was exceptionally floppy as he was ushered into his seatbelt. _

_Dean sighed heavily and swung into the Driver's seat, it was going to be a loooooong ride…_

_#####_

_Sleeping spread-eagled upon the horrifying beige of the hotel's sheets, cares forgotten for another day and, Dean had note with a brotherly smirk, he was absolutely _adorable_ when he was asleep, just like when they were kids. A subconscious shudder ran through him at that thought, trying to get Sammy in bed on time back then was worse than kissing a Zombie! Who knew small children had so much energy?_

_Finding the rectangle of power located in between a handful of cushions on his bed, Dean clicked the television on as softly as he could, wincing as he realised the last guest was probably a total jerk because the thing was blaring at full-volume! Maybe he should just take a surreptitious look at the Guest Book or Hotel Records and go do some 'hunting' of his own…_

_Sam shot bolt upright, eyes snapping to the scrolling screen, "There! Him! See?" he yelled, arms snapping out to point at the skinny man on the screen, standing behind a blonde who appeared to be briefing the reporters on a serial killer recently brought to justice in Quantico, Virginia; Dean squinted at the man, before giving a small chuckle, "Him? Demons are after _him_? What, are they out of toothpicks or something?" The scepticism was fairly obvious in his voice as the words rang out, Sam gave him a swift punch to the arm, "Stop it man, I'm serious…when have my visions ever been wrong?"_

_Briefly his lips had parted to deliver a crippling retort, but paused at the logic of his brother, "I-…" he sighed deeply, "I'll go get the car…"_

_#####_

"_So, just to clear this up…we're going to Quantico, Virginia, yes? You know the place the _goddamn FBI Headquarters is?_ As in, crawling with people who would just love to arrest us? I'm sorry Sammy but this is kind of hard for me to take!" Dean turned to look at the sleeping form by his side, Sam completely oblivious to his ranting; but then, Dean had known Sam was asleep long before he'd even opened his mouth…he'd never force that kind of thing on the kid otherwise. It wasn't his fault these visions…or whatever, where coming to him…it was just some sick Cosmic Joke being played out and they'd missed the punchline…_

"_Ah, Sammy…just…forget it." He took a hand off the wheel to vaguely wave at his brother, who shifted and murmured something that sounded vaguely like a threat involving hand-cream and an octopus at him… Oh, that was too good…Dean pulled off the road for a moment to scrabble for a pen and paper…_

_#####_

"_Rise and shine Sammy! Or does Sleeping Beauty need a kiss?" Sam jerked awake with a "From you? Yeah right! Your garlic breath would probably kill me…" Which had the desired effect of totally stumping Dean for a comeback; the Impala was double parked out the front of a skeezy Motel. The uniquely titled 'Hide'n'Seekers Highway Luxury Hotel' complete with rundown, garishly painted buildings and a fair stash of unique looking people. Hell, judging from the satellite dish, the rooms probably came with free porn…which was fine as long as it kept Dean happy –which it would… Sam sighed, "Alright, I'll drive the next part of the trip…did you drive all night, you look like crap! Hey, what time is it?"_

_Inhaling deeply Dean had turned and smirked, "Midday, big boy! You've been sleeping for ages, we're almost to Quantico, by the way, another few hours and we'll be in position to save your Demon Toothpick of an Agent…" He narrowly avoided the empty beer bottle as it soared out the open car window…_

_#####_

_The incessant tapping of__ keys was beginning to get to a generally hung-over Dean, face-down in the robin-egg blue pillows provided by the cheap hotel/motel they'd checked into last night after completing the nearly eight hour drive… "Dude, either you stop playing technosexual with your cyber-girlfriend there or I'm gonna have to shoot you…" he muttered around the soft fabric._

_Wasn't it enough punishment that the pervading high-pitched buzzing whine and crackle of garish neon sign just to the far right of their room, large palms and smiling banana proclaiming this "The Palm Islands Resort", was drilling into his skull like…well, a drill… _

_Then, blessed silence…_

_Sam's fingers left off the laptop for a mere instant before…and ominous clicking started, which resulted in a near-instantaneous pillow-to-the-head. It was thrown back with force and a high-pitched, "Dude?" half question, half exasperated yell. "Look, I think I've got a lead, but…we can check it out after Breakfa- Lunch, now get your ass out of bed. And no more drinking, all right?"_

_Nothing but a strangled whine and a rumbling stomach answered him…_

_#####_

_Chilly air seeped into the Impala, engine still warm from being turned off so recently. Pressing his forehead against the window, Dean sighed heavily, "Sammy…" he began, but was cut off…the younger brother shifting the portable computer on his lap and sighing, snapping it's lid shut before stowing under the seat and speaking. "Look, Dean…I- I wasn't entirely truthful about- about what I saw in my vision, there was one other thing…"_

_#####_

_Turning back to him with a look of abject horror and anger, Dean gasped out, "Are you _kidding_ me? We risked our lives for some…freakin' junkie cop-slash-Toothpick?" Through the window, the group's sign was clearly visible, all the members milling about before the meeting began… "Beltway Clean Cops" stop out in deep black letters on the crisp, pure white paper. Something twitched under Dean's eye, "Are you telling me, we came all this way, to the middle of FBI-Central full of cops who would just _love _to arrest us…to save an addict?" he growled at the silent, stoic façade Sam was throwing up between them._

"_N-No, Dean, please…it's not like that, I got the sense…it wasn't his fault it happened. Not much else, but I had an intense feeling it wasn't his fault…" the other soothed, trying desperately to shut Dean up so their position wouldn't be given away. Ruffling his jacket against the cold, Dean stalked away to sit in a shadowed corner, "Whatever man, we'd better not get freakin' haemorrhoids from sitting on this cement at minus a thousand degrees…or I am totally putting spikes on your chair." He warned in his best '_I'm actually concerned, but nothing on, or below, this Earth will make me admit it…'_ voice. Sam just smirked…_

_#####_

_Soft footsteps clattered against the cement, someone in a hurry. The brothers jerked upright, Dean softly complaining about the generalised lack of feeling in his backside and Sam sighing, simultaneously rolling his eyes and wondering what he' done to get Dean for a brother. Only in jest, of course… Two pairs of shoes clacked against the pavement, both paused as the Winchesters held their breath…words, something about a medallion? One-year? Who knew…the heavier set disappeared into the building._

_Turning around the corner, Sam ran straight into a tall, skinny man wearing a gun at the front, "whoa, hey, sorry man, I-…" he caught his breath as the man's face came into view, Oh… Luckily, Dean interjected, "Hey, yeah, Sammy here is a giant klutz, sorry about that! I'm Dean, this is Sam, we're new here, uh…can you tell us the way to the nearest fast food joint…kinda starving, here?"_

_The younger man flinched momentarily at the abject physical contact, but blinked and responded, "Sure, just down that road, I'm uh…Dr Reid, _Spencer_ Reid; it's no problem really, I do my fair share of stupid things too, in fact on a daily- wait, sorry, off topic. Just go down that road and to the left, you should have a choice of a dozen different little take-aways and two separate fast food restaurants." His phone began to buzz insistently. "I, uh, I have to go now, but it was nice meeting you! Have a nice time in Quantico!" _

_And he was gone, Dean didn't miss the way Sam gazed after the other with an incredulous look on his face, and so elbowed said brother in the ribs, "Oooh, developing a little man-crush there Sammy-boy?" he laughed, but stopped abruptly as Sam's expression came into view. "D-Dean, that was him…"_

**_TBC..._**

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><p><strong><em>First Chapter out of the way... Hope you liked it, it gets better from here!^^<em>**

**_Chapter 2: Garcia's Gorgeous Genius..._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW, tell me what you think!_**


	2. Chapter 2: Garcia's Gorgeous Genius

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or Supernatural, nor do I own any of the associated characters...**

**Sorry it took so long, I got stuck...I apologise!^^ Forgive Meh?^^**

**Enjoy...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Garcia's Gorgeous Genius…<strong>

**~)0(~**

She prodded the extended shoe in her vision, it shifted slightly, but remained solely blocking her view down the aisle like a smudge on a painting. It really shouldn't annoy her…but it did…she prodded the shoe harder, getting a lovely view of garishly patterned socks, but success at the same time; a sleepy voice mumbled, "Hey…what're you doing, Garcia?"

"Exactly what needs to be done, my magnificent mental magician! What's up with you, I would have thought you'd be all over this case, see…there's even a place for you at the Big Kid Table!" her beam should –by the Laws of Physics- have cracked her face in half, especially when Morgan leaned around his chair to cast a baleful glare in her direction. "Oh stop it, you chocolate God, you! You know you love it!" she purred and bit her pen and quirked an eyebrow. Derek chuckled, snorted and turned back around rolling his eyes at her antics.

It was Hotch who then leant out to call, "Garcia, stop teasing Morgan." A small smirk caressed the corners of his mouth, "Reid, you can go back to sleep if you want…we won't be there for a few hours…and we all know it'll only take you a few seconds to skim through our notes." A hand appeared over the top of the double chair in front of her, waving tiredly in recognition before disappearing again. Someone moved on the seat just once; then all she could hear was the tapping of her fingers on the keys and the occasional interchange of her teammate's voices…

She risked peering cautiously over the seat before her, ever alert for the sound of an oncoming ambush-by-pillow…not that she'd ever thought her Baby Boy capable of such treachery, but…there was always a chance her deviousness had rubbed off on him…

_Fumphff! _The pillow hit her squarely on, accompanied by a tired voice asking, "Garcia…is there any chance you're going to let me just…you know, _sleep_? Because, unless math has failed me completely, there's another pillow down here with your name on it…"

She sat back down…

~)0(~

"So…" the word hung in the air, weighted by a dozen different emotions. "So…" Dean repeated, pacing back and forth, "…you're telling me, Sammy, that after we spent ALL THIS TIME getting here…and now the Toothpick's _gone_?" Something twitched dangerously below Dean's right eye, even Sam felt the sudden need to run for his life…and backed away, accordingly.

Just as tensions rose past fever pitch, and Sam himself was drawing a major mental blank…Dean's phone began to vibrate and make all sorts of beeping noises; leaving off stalking back and forth like some predatory creature, Dean resumed some semblance of humanity and simmered down to answer it. "Yeah?" the heavy, angry tone died in an instant, like a candle flame being snuffed out by the wind, "Oh, Bobby…no, it's-…Hey, I wasn't yelling at you! Whippersnapper? Oh, getting old there, Bobby? Alright, calm down, I wasn't implying anything, just…oh…West Bune? ...You sure?" There was a pause and lots of loud yelling through the mobile, Dean held it away from his ear until the sound dissipated, then brought it back. "Of course you're sure…stupid me, look, we'll look into it and- SAM! Gotta Go Bobby, Sam's having another vision!"

The mobile slipped shut with definite finality, Bobby mid-admonishment, but Sam didn't care…all he could see was a flare of vision…and the crippling lancing pain that shot directly to the backs of his eyes. So vivid…so fresh in his mind…and then it was gone and the world came crashing up to meet his knees as jean-clad legs no longer supported his weight. "_Son of a_-…Dean! I just…we have to get to West Bune, just trust me…there is a…a _massive_ demon swarm down there, it's…I think…one of Lillith's Lieutenants is leading some form of attack on the people there!" his voice was low and strained, breathing irregular and harsh…

Dean was crouched beside him, hands raised slightly as if to do something but unsure exactly _what; _with finality, his brother sighed, rubbed a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling with loathing –as though it, personally, was the source of all his consternation. "Fine…c'mon big guy, let's get you to the car…" Dean finally sighed in defeat and went to snatch the Impala's keys from the vividly yellow bedside table. Sam trailed behind…

~)0(~

Bouncing down the short runway is definitely NOT a good way to wake up, Reid decided there and then; groaning loudly he sat upright too swiftly and immediately regretted it… "You okay, Kid?" asked Morgan as he passed the seat, bag in hand and a concerned expression plastered on his face; Spencer waved vaguely at him, "I'm…I'm fine, Derek, just…" he didn't even finish but stood up unsteadily and walked away.

Garcia stared long after the skinny scientist; as did Hotch and Rossi, both the team leaders sending coded glances to one another, something was up with their youngest member…and they would definitely be getting to the bottom of it. The hazard of being on a team of profilers was that no deep, dark secret was safe for long… Reid would be finding that out shortly…

~)0(~

Sherriff Hallum strode through the wreckage of the destroyed house, both Deputies by his side; the town was small, to be sure, and the loss of any members –good or bad- was keenly felt. Two of his own officers had been gunned down mercilessly, the thought was practically unimaginable…and yet, those were the cold hard facts of the case… He'd called in some big-shot team down at the FBI to help them catch this killer, BAR…BUA…something ridiculous, Profilers… he spat in the red dust surrounding his boots. Didn't put much stock by them himself, but according to the FBI, they were the best at what they did and they constantly got results; maybe they weren't so bad…

Dark SUVs rolled up behind the trio, Deputy Lawford was first to spin about and exclaim in surprise at their arrival; Sherriff Hallum rolled his eyes, Lawford may not have been the brightest, but you'd never find a more loyal person out there…besides, he was the son of a family friend. "I see 'em, here come the city slickers to tell us how it's done…" he laughed dryly, sarcasm lacing each and every syllable of his tone as he went to greet the Agents.

From the lead SUV stepped a tall, older man who was obviously the commanding officer, beside him, another older man stepped out and held the door open for a young blond woman; from the secondary SUV appeared a tall, dark-skinned man with a muscular frame, followed closely by a very thin creature with a thick mop of hair…looked like a beanstalk far as he was concerned. They seemed to be waiting for something…

"I'm Agent Jereau, we spoke on the phone?" proffered the young blonde, hand extended to meet his own; Sherriff Hallum shook her hand firmly but carefully, she looked so petite a strong wind might very well blow her away… "Right, that you did. Well, this here's my Deputies, Lawford and Savage...anything you need, speak to them, and I'm Sherriff Hallum," he said, tipping his hat to the newcomers.

The man who was obviously the commanding officer came forward, "Nice to meet you Sherriff, I am Agent Aaron Hotchner of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is my team." He indicated each in turn, "Agents Rossi, Jereau and Morgan; this is Doctor Spencer Reid and…" he paused to turn and look, "Where is Garcia?" he asked of the two by the second SUV, the skinny Doctor and Agent Morgan simply pointed to the open door of the backseat…rampant tapping sounds could be heard. Agent Hotchner motioned for him to follow, so the Sherriff did; coming around the side of the car to stare in at a…uniquely attired woman with shocking red hair and all manner of ornaments, typing madly away at a laptop. She looked up, startled behind her glasses, Hotchner simply gave her a look and introduced the woman, "As I was saying, this is Penelope Garcia, our Technical Analyst…"

Working with these people could be more interesting than they had previously thought…

~)0(~

The site was a wreck, to be sure; a fireball explosion like the one that had occurred was exceptionally destructive…chunks of wood, metal, glass…and -what Morgan sincerely hoped was _meat_-other debris was strewn from one end of the site to the other. The bodies had yet to be removed, one hung limply in a tree…Derek stepped over a body bag with a scowl of distaste, "Hey, why're the victims still here? I mean, didn't this happen like, yesterday?"

The Sherriff whirled about with a furious expression, "Don't you think to tell me what to do in my own county, boy! We left these here bodies where they are to preserve evidence 'cause you big-shot Agents took your sweet time getting here…didn't you?" Morgan blinked, about to retort with an observation about a crippled home life and a drunken father [if the profile fitted], when Hotch stepped in… "Alright, we get that you don't like having to ask outside assistance, but you did and we came. Simmer down…you too, Morgan. Now, what do we know about the unsub?" the last part was aimed more at his own team than the police department.

"Most unsubs who use explosive devices are male, generally fifteen to twenty-five years old, they like to get their point across but dislike getting involved directly…however, this unsub used the device as a sort of assassination attempt, unusual for anyone but psychotics and hitmen." Everyone in the area was watching him speak on oblivious to the incredulous stares he receiving, all wondering if he was going to take a breath at some point… "Considering the evidence, and the way he waited to take out the wave of primary responders…I'd say the unsub Profiles as a Terrorist. A recent event will have caused some form of psychotic break, he's angry and has access to explosive devices. Also highly intelligent…or is around someone who is capable of fashioning these devices. Which, theoretically-…"

Rossi held up a hand, "Enough, Reid. Sherriff, do you know of any young males, fifteen to twenty-five who fits the profile…he'd be angry, difficult, maybe considered an outsider…exceptionally intelligent, undervalued, he wouldn't fit in with peers. Something happened recently, a big event or maybe he's just been waiting, biding his time…"

Hallum looked thoughtful for a moment, rubbing a hand under his chin, but eventually shook his head, "Maybe it would be best if we talked about this down at the station. Boys, tell the Coroner he can remove the bodies now…" with a dismissive wave, several of the other officers began to carefully load the three body bags containing the original victim Rod Norris, and secondary victims, the two officers, into a waiting ambulance. Others set about the disturbing task of removing young Jordan Norris's remains from the tree…it was surmised she had not been the intended victim, merely an innocent bystander caught up in the explosion by chance.

With a final glance at the scene, both the BAU and Sherriff's department members slipped inside their respective vehicles, and drove away…

~)0(~

Reid. His name was Reid. Why were visions of this man lodged in his mind? Sighing in exasperation, Sam pummelled his pillow and tried to turn over, not an easy task in such a small space as the passenger seat of the Impala. "Something wrong, Sammy boy?" teased Dean, poking him without taking his eyes off the road for an instant… For an instant, he considered telling Dean the truth…then threw that idea right out the window, not unless Dean managed to mature in the last twelve hours or so; speaking of which…

Dean held up a hand, "Don't say it…I already stopped a good two hours ago for a rest…and two hours before that. Geez, _Mom_, thought you were dead after I pulled in at the second service station and you didn't even wake up! Had to…poke you with a stick, just to be sure…" he grinned. Sam, however, paled in horror, "You didn't…" His brother flicked his head in that signature move that meant –to those who could interpret- _I so totally did!_ And handed over his phone…

Sam flipped up the screen to reveal a _rather interesting _wallpaper…he exhaled in disbelief, eyes flickering between the phone and his brother… "You…I…I'm going to kill you, I hope you know that… This means War!" Dean just continued to smirk, earning another bout of Sam's ire. "You are so immature, Dean…_gah_!_ Seriously?_" The smirk fell, "Look, Sammy I'm sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood before I asked… What's up with the Kid?"

He blinked, "What kid?" confusion shone bright as a beacon on his face, both pairs of eyes in the car flickered to a large, cheery sign that said, "**Welcome to West Bune, Texas! Hope you Enjoy Your Stay!**" His question earned a baleful glare, "Don't you 'What Kid?' me, little brother…the Toothpick, the Agent, the Kid…c'mon, he's probably younger than you for cripes sake! What's so special about him that we have to save him from a horde of demons…I mean, seriously?" For that, he had no answer.

"C'mon Sammie, when has tight-lipped silence and that _adorable puppy pout_ ever worked on me?" a hand snaked out to grab his cheek and shake it like some annoying old aunt, Sam slapped it away with a _Really?_ Expression. "I don't know, alright? Don't do that again, it feels…weird…" glared the other, Dean gave a strange cough into one hand as he steered them towards a seedy-looking Diner and flipped something up through his fingers…dropping it in Sam's outstretched hand. Exactly when he'd extended that hand, even Sam was unsure…but nonetheless; he was intrigued by the object and flipped it about this way and that, staring intently. "The Toothpick dropped it when he bumped into us before, I think it was that Commemorative Coin we heard him discussing with the other person before he met us. Hell, the Kid looked so weedy and stressed I nearly ran after him and gave it back…or hugged him…but let's not make this a chick-flick moment…" Dean cleared his throat as they pulled up by a gas pump, a clearly fuel-addled attendant came out and tapped on the window.

"Hey, fill 'er up, would ya, Sparky?" Dean grinned as he stepped out of the car, stretching like someone in a yoga class…actually, Sam felt exactly the same and stepped out, simultaneously looking for a bathroom and trying to maintain balance after twelve hours asleep in a car. With a very tired monotone, the attendant pointed over his shoulder, "Over there, champ." With all possible dignity, Sam just managed to make a swift walk rather than running, screaming…with arms flailing in his desperate need.

A few moments later, with a very satisfied grin on his features, Sam ran into Dean as the other strode from the small store with arms cradled full of junk food, beer and pie. Always with the pie…he sighed and chuckled softly, earning a strange glance from Dean, "Hey man, you feeling okay? 'Cause the whole 'demonic giggling to yourself' thing is pretty damn creepy, to be honest."

Sam shoved him playfully, "Shut up!" he smiled and the pair burst into laughter at the ridiculous nature of their ire as they slid back in the Impala, Sam taking the wheel rather forcefully; exiling Dean to the passenger seat, with his treasure trove of snackage.

~)0(~

Bumping along the dusty roads of this small county town, Reid frowned deeply, feeling as if…as if he'd forgotten something… A thought struck like a thunderbolt, stilling his heart a moment as his expressive eyes widened in a sudden recollection and fear… "Hey Pretty Boy, something wrong?" asked Derek from beside him in the Driver's seat, Garcia echoing, "What? Morgan, is something wrong with my Baby Boy?" a brightly coloured set of fingernails appeared in his peripheral vision, vivid shades of fluro yellow, orange, green, blue and pink…like a small rainbow.

He flinched, but shoved his hand straight in his pant pocket…feeling nothing but the cold metal of his work mobile, Derek was speaking again, "Seriously, Pretty Boy…what's wrong?" there was concern in the furtive glances he spared the Doctor, flickering his eyes between Reid and the road. But he was beyond words now, a sense of desperation was slowly sinking into the pit of his stomach, the pockets of his pants were empty of the object he sought. Quickly, he began to search the pockets of his jacket, to no avail…it was gone…

The coin…was gone.

~)0(~

Absently flipping the metal disk in the fingers of one hand, tapping the steering wheel with those of the other, Sam stared at the coin whilst waiting at a completely superfluous red light…he was the only one around, yet the damn thing hadn't changed for a good five minutes! Dean jerked awake as the light flickered green, his foot descended slightly on the accelerator and they sped forwards a tad sharply… "Hey, watch where you're going, dammit!" cried Dean, rubbing the back of his head where it had slammed rather forcefully into the headrest, which definitely was not on his 'Top Ten Things to Do Just After Waking'…and he said so; Sam was so distracted, he couldn't even bring himself to laugh at the lame joke, or was it a complaint?

Things were getting fuzzy around the edges, the coin leapt upright and spun slowly in the air, end over end, as he slammed on the breaks to avoid going through a wall; the Impala skidded, swerved sideways and rocked to a standstill…Dean's admonishments were fading into cries of concern, the coin continued to spin, and the world faded to strange shades of prophecy and pain…

**~)0(~**

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><p><strong>TBC...<strong>

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><p><strong>I know, cruel me...stopped it when it was getting good...Mwahahahahahhahaaaaaaa...<strong>

**Well, a REVIEW would be wonderful!**

**Help: Could anyone tell me the last name of the unsub from this episode?**

**Thanks for Reading!^^**

**~*SailorSilvanesti*~**


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